


Going Off Script

by astraversa



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, The Homestuck Epilogues: Candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 02:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraversa/pseuds/astraversa
Summary: In a universe with infinite possibilities, who's to say there wasn't a story that branched off from a narrative of dubious canonicity? During Dirk's funeral, Karkat and Dave share a moment - and this time it isn't interrupted.





	Going Off Script

**Author's Note:**

> Aka Storytime with Karkat.  
> Happy Birthday to The Crabby Boy!

The churchyard might as well be the set of a movie, dark and grey and wet enough for the occasion. Karkat has followed Dave out of the church hall, pausing under the eaves when Dave strides into the graveyard. Rain drips off his shades like tears. He looks like the lead in an angsty drama. Miserable. Alone. 

Fuck _that_. Fuck all of this, to be honest! The whole corpse party has been a farce from the very start, a media circus starring _Gamzee_ \- an ACTUAL clown - as the main act! The world is practically asking Karkat to make a scene about it, and he has been, but enough is enough. There’s more important things to worry about.

Leaving his shelter, Karkat's thoughts are as loud and heavy as his footsteps. It’s impossible to ignore his approach. Yet Dave’s only reaction is a slight incline of his head when Karkat stops a foot and a half away from him. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Karkat asks roughly.

Anyone else might be put-off by Karkat’s attitude, but by now Dave recognizes that Karkat’s being angry on his behalf. A fleeting emotion crosses Dave’s face as he processes that, before he purses his lips in response. Lingering. Unsure. Despite how awful it all is, despite having Dirk do this to him in the first place, Dave can’t walk away from this situation that easily.

Karkat crosses his arms tightly across his chest.

“At least get out of the rain.” 

His concern seems to reach Dave, who shrugs and wanders towards the closest church wall. Karkat follows him there too, and while his anger hasn’t subsided, it settles into his veins. Bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. His bloodpusher aches with the effort to keep it reined in, or maybe, just maybe, it’s hurting for the man before him.

Dave can only stay silent for so long. 

“Leave it to fucking Gamzee to turn a tragedy into the worst comedy ever conceived.” He starts, with a notable edge to his voice, “The media are gonna have a field day, not like they actually cared about Dirk in the first place.”

For a moment it seems Dave’s about to deliver a rant of truly epic proportions, but the fight quickly drains out of him. He visibly slumps, and while the sight is truly pitible, Karkat appreciates that Dave’s no longer putting on his cool facade. Not with him.

“I don’t know… maybe Dirk would’ve preferred it this way.” Dave concludes, taking off his shades to rub at his eyes and keeping them off. The rain and tears have smudged the glass thoroughly.

Karkat would take a moment to admire Dave’s eyes, if they weren’t so puffy and he wasn’t preoccupied with more pressing thoughts and feelings, Particularly regarding Dirk himself, the supposed man of the hour. Karkat’s impression of him was mostly influenced by his relationship with Dave, since he wasn’t that close with the guy. There’s a decent chunk of resentment at him for dying the way he did, but more horror that he felt the need to do it. Either way, Karkat knows it isn’t his place to co-opt Dave’s grief. He’s lost friends in the worst ways too. He knows how it is.

So, Karkat agrees, “Maybe.”

But.

“But as _ironic_ as it is that Dirk’s funeral makes for awful reality TV, it doesn’t change that his life was important to you and should’ve been given some fucking respect.”

That gives Dave pause, an imperceptible beat. The wind shifts. It causes Karkat to shiver, his shoulder growing damper by the second. The eaves don’t offer much protection.

Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, Dave unbuttons his suit jacket and steps closer to Karkat. There’s barely any time to question it, what with Dave quickly raising his arm to hover above Karkat’s head and drape the fabric over him as shelter.

Karkat tries to ignore how the action makes more-than-pale feelings crawl up his posture pole. Now is not the time and place for that. It never is.

“Anyway, I bet Dirk would have appreciated your sincerity a lot more than Gamzee’s twisted whatever-the-fuck.” He mumbles, his agitation awkwardly combining with his admiration in a way that could only be called _tsundere_. 

A ghost of a smile tugs at Dave’s lips, but it quickly vanishes. 

“What, that? You know that was me just regurgitating a bunch of our feelings jams, a veritable word vomit of discourse that’s years old, ‘cause even with all the salt it’s not that well preserved, leaving that shit rank as hell.”

“Ugh.” 

Karkat rolls his eyes, caterpillar brows furrowing in frustration. Dave has every right to feel the way he does, but it doesn’t make his metaphors any less gross, nor the eulogy any less meaningful. He knows this, Dave knows this, it’s not a secret. Thus the nonsense can be treated with the disdain it deserves.

The rain subsides, turning into a misty shower. Yet Dave keeps his arm poised over Karkat, continuing to protect the troll from the worst of the weather. 

The gesture continues to do funny things with Karkat’s insides, things he’s accustomed to ignoring, but it does leave him more tender with Dave than he might be with anyone else.

“I mean it. So what if it’s all been said before? Clearly, it needed to be said again! As many times as you need to say it.”

God knows Karkat’s had to do the same until it felt like he could actually believe what he was saying. To the point that he no longer had to suffer for his failures, or convince himself that his friends wouldn’t want him to. 

Dave looks doubtful, but he’s listening. Karkat recalls that in his speech, Dave had confessed to relying on Dirk for guidance in his life. That he also found Gamzee at Dirk’s place, before he found the body. No wonder he was feeling adrift.

“It’s okay to feel messed up about it.” Karkat urges, “It’s fucking _fine_ to think you couldn’t measure up, and not know what to do, and it sucks serious bulge that Dirk’s not here to reassure you himself, but - but he loved you, and I can guarantee that you and what you said meant more than a putrid preacher that hijacked his home and his funeral! You’re fucking valid, Dave, and you don’t need to Dirk to tell you that. You just _are_.”

Dave turns his face away, and Karkat knows what he said is pretty difficult to swallow considering Dirk’s dead body hasn’t even been buried yet, but fuck it! It’s something Dave needs to hear. It’s something _he_ himself needs to say.

Intent on making eye contact, Karkat winds a hand in Dave’s shirt and tugs him in. The idea was to force Dave’s attention, and in that sense it works - their faces are now so close that it’s impossible to look the other way. It feels like they’re frozen in time, and the longer it drags out the wider Karkat’s eyes get.

If this was a movie then indulging in the mood would be too easy, like reaching for yet another chocolate-covered beetle. Appropriately, Karkat lets go of Dave’s shirt, fingers brushing down his torso in a gesture more charged than the pap he’d been going for. Dave seems willing to go along with it too, dipping down ever so slightly...

But for trolls, sugar can be dicey in high amounts. Karkat knows this. Just like he knows that if this was a movie, any second now would be the cue for a poorly timed interruption. Jade, maybe. When it came to supporting Dave in this trying time she’d mainly taken the reins of helping coordinate the funeral on his behalf, being the type that needs to _do_ rather than _be_ when it came to grief. It was appreciated, yet that same urge meant that Jade had an unfortunate habit of inserting herself into situations where her attempts to fix things made things worse.

Karkat is willing very, very hard for that not to happen right now. So hard, that it feels like his consciousness is rising from the haze of a sweet stupor, empowered by the emotion of the moment, the tension Karkat can _feel_ running between himself and Dave. 

He very simply refuses to act according to the script laid out for them. 

Subtly, the breeze changes direction again, making the world they live in slightly more bearable for the moment. Karkat grins in spite of himself, and it causes Dave’s breath to stutter across his cheek. 

“I really… meant it.” He says, warmth obvious in his voice, though now he’s the one failing at maintaining eye contact. The wall just over Dave’s shoulder sure is interesting!

“Like, okay. I get it, it’s hard to believe someone when they say they care about you, that you can do anything. Especially right now, Christ!” Karkat continues, because now he’s started on this track he can’t stop, and there can be no doubting the bond he and Dave share, like it’s the most relevant and true thing in the universe, “I know whatever I say probably comes across as bullshit and you probably think I’m just saying it because I feel bad for you or have some sort of insane idea bout you or… whatever. And I like to think that we’re… we’re on the level enough for you to understand that.”

Oh God, he’s rambling, he’s as bad as Dave, this needs to stop. His instincts are screaming that he’s oversharing, something not even the most essential components of the universe can fight.

So, in conclusion, “But also, fuck you, because I’m right and you’re wrong, shut up! If you can’t believe in yourself, then at least believe in me!”

Dave’s staring at Karkat now, incredibly moved, but also more than a little convinced that Dirk will be rolling in his grave. It’s enough that he doesn’t comment on the meme, his bro’s death a little too raw for that.

“I… yeah, same.” Dave says instead, a little lamely. “So…”

They’re still incredibly close. Karkat’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips. There is absolutely more they need to talk about. Things they need to delve into. Problems that have to be addressed. There’s some skepticism about how sentimental it all is. But that’s life, and they can feel safe in the knowledge that they’ve got each other’s backs. They can do this. 

They can make this happen.

“This is messed up.” Dave mutters, bumping their noses together again. Lips not quite brushing Karkat’s, not yet, he’s taking his time.

“T...totally.” Karkat agrees. Because it is. It’s the funeral of Dave’s brother!

That fact is completely irrelevant to how they feel. Dave raises a hand to Karkat’s cheek, gently tilting his head so they can make eye contact again. It’s obvious to them both of them what’s going on here, has been since Karkat had pulled Dave in by the shirt. 

If it’s come this far, Karkat is going to allow himself to live out this crazy romcom fantasy. - he kisses the boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Narrator!Karkat is amazing to write??? Also I subscribe to the theory that Candy = id, and Meat = super-ego, which explains how those plots run, and by Karkat becoming the narrator you're automatically bringing some ego into Candy. It'd change things in an interesting way, ships aside imho. Anyway this is my first time writing for Homestuck and I definitely crossreferenced the epilogue for obvious reasons.


End file.
